Mirror Image
by Dark Draconain
Summary: Set after “Silent Enemy”. A mysterious disease starts killing off the crew. Can Archer figure out what it is in time to stop it? Please R


**Mirror Image**   
Author: Dark Draconain (yellow_hat_girl@hotmail.com)  
Rated: PG-13 (for language)   
Feedback: yes, pleeeeeease!!!!!!   
Disclaimer: The Enterprise characters are owned by Paramount (I think). In any event they're not mine, I make no money off this, you know the rest.   
Summery: Set after "Silent Enemy". A mysterious disease starts killing off the crew. Can Archer figure out what it is in time to stop it?   
Spoilers: "Silent Enemy" 

_Damn, not again,_ thought Archer as he felt the ship lurch backwards and drop out of warp. He pressed the comm switch on the wall, "Archer to engineering, what the hell is going on down there, Commander?" 

"Ah, well, Sir," began Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III in his Southern drawl, "the anti-mater reactor is acting up again." 

"Again?" asked Archer. "This is the fifth time in two weeks!" He sighed, "Any idea when you'll have it fixed?" 

"Ah, we should be able to go to warp by tomorrow mornin', Sir." 

"Alright, Trip," he sighed in exasperation. "Keep me informed. Archer out." Great, just great. Archer turned to his science officer, Sub-Commander T'Pol. "I'm heading down to engineering," he stated dryly, turned and walked into the turbo lift. 

~~~~~~ 

"Almack, have you gotten those conduits realigned yet?" asked Tucker impatiently. 

"Almost…." 

"Well hurry it up, Ensign!" Tucker shouted back irritably. He was standing on the landing just in front of the anti-matter reactor pounding furiously into the control panels when he heard a voice from below. 

"How's it goin', Trip?" inquired Archer. He was standing at the base of the platform griping the ladder with both hands. 

"Not well, Sir," Tucker replied blandly. "I could have sworn we had this fixed, I really didn't think overloading the phase-cannons would have this kind of effect…." 

"What's done is done, Commander. Can I give you a hand with anything?" 

"Ah, sure. Could you monitor the positron flow for me for a sec?" 

"Sure," said Archer. He climbed the ladder up to platform where Tucker was standing and peered into one of the display screens, "looks good Trip." 

"Kay, hang on…" Tucker adjusted some controls, "now?" 

"Fine…wait—there looks like, I dunno, is that just a blip?" asked Archer motioning toward the screen. 

Tucker walked back across the platform and looked, "No…it looks like an anomaly in the warp coils in the port nacelle." He hopped down the ladder, "Almack what's goin' on with those conduits?" he demanded. 

"I thought I had them, then they just, well, I don't know what happened, Sir." 

_Jeez, doesn't any one 'round here have frigin' clue?! Maybe it's just me but this is ridiculous! Porthos would be more help….Maybe I'm being to hard on 'em…_Maybe_…Oh, well,_ thought Tucker. "Hey, Cap'n, could you check on that panel down there for me?" he asked pointing to a small panel to the left of the anti-mater reactor. 

"Sure, Trip," said Archer clambering down the ladder and over to the panel. He knelt over it get a closer look. Just as he knelt down, Tucker noticed one of the panels near by light up then explode. 

"Captain!" he yelled. Archer turned and looked up perplexedly. He opened his mouth to say something when a piece of metal hit him just behind and below his right temple. He swayed on his knees then dropped onto the deck plating. 

~~~~~~ 

Everything looked blurry, there was a man standing over him with light brown hair and blue eyes. He was calling his name. Archer sat up and shook his head. Trip. It was Trip standing over him! 

"You ok, Sir?" asked Tucker, concern for his long-time friend evident in his voice. 

"Yah, I'm fine," Archer heard himself say. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else, all twisted and disembodied. 

"We better get you to sickbay, Sir," said Tucker. "You don't look so hot." 

Archer felt someone grab his arms and lift him up onto his feet. The whole scene seemed eerily surreal, like he was watching a movie of himself. The short trips on the turbo lifts to sickbay were badly blurred. He knew Trip was talking to him, sounded like something about his head and blood, and an explosion? He thought he might have responded but he wasn't sure. Then Doctor Phlox was standing in front of him. He knew it was Phlox because Phlox was a Denobulan and, he was, rather plump as well. The white walls blurred together then he was lying down. He could hear voices and see figures, but they were distant and unrecognizable. Then everything went black. 

~~~~~~ 

The strong luminescent lights beat down on the strange creatures inhabiting the room; immunocytic gel worms, an Altarian marsupial, and osmotic eels among others. Archer moaned softly then opened his eyes, the lights blurred together then faded to normal. He could see clearly again, and he was lying on a bio-bed in sickbay. He heard a shuffling sound and sat upright. Phlox appeared in front of him and asked, in his usual cheery voice, "Ah, hmh, how are you feeling, Captain? Better?" 

"Yah, how long have I-" 

"Forty eight hours." 

"Fore—forty eight?" asked Archer flabbergasted. "Why? What happened? How did I—" 

"Captain, relax, everything is fine. You suffered a severe head injury. Seems a panel blew out in engineering and hit you in the side of the head. I thought it best to leave you under sedation while I scanned for any brain damage." 

Archer nodded, then his face clouded with a worried expression, "Brain damage?" he nearly choked on the words. 

"Don't worry Captain, you're fine. Might have a headache for a few days, though. I suggest you spend some time off-duty in your quarters. Come see me tomorrow, I'd like to check on that head of yours. Oh, and one more thing," said Phlox handing Archer a hypo-spray, "that should help with your head." 

Archer nodded then walked out of sickbay and dazedly made his way to his quarters. 

~~~~~~ 

When he walked into his blue-gray coloured room his dog, Porthos, was there to greet him. Archer bent over and scratched behind the little Beagle's ear, "Good boy." He shuffled over to his dresser and changed out of his uniform and into a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt. Then he pressed the comm switch on the wall by his bead. "Archer to the bridge," he said. 

"Yes Captain?" answered T'Pol. 

"Is Commander Tucker there?" 

"Yes, Sir, I am," replied Tucker, "how're you feelin'?" 

"Fine. Look, Trip, could you come down here for a sec?" 

"Sure. You in you're quarters?" 

"Yah" 

"Alright, I'm on my way," 

~~~~~~ 

Tucker entered to see Archer stretched out on his bed. "Sir?" asked Tucker. 

"Yah, c'mon in, Trip." 

Tucker walked across the room but stopped halfway through to pet Porthos. "Hey, little guy, you takin' good care of the Cap'n?" the little dog made a 'content doggy noise' then jumped up on the bed next to Archer. "That's a good, boy," said Tucker. He walked over to the bed and looked down at Archer. "You look like shit, Sir," he commented dryly. 

"Thanks, Trip. So what's happened in the last forty-eight hours?" 

"Oh, the usual; got the warp drive back on line—and oh! Get this, I think T'Pol was actually concerned 'bout ya!" 

"About me?" asked Archer incredulously. "Isn't concern an emotion?" 

"Last time I checked," Tucker laughed. "Maybe she ought to stop hanging round us humans?" 

"Maybe. Any thing else?" 

"Well, yah, actually, some odd alien ship thing flew up to us, stayed a minute then bailed," he shrugged, "think they thought we smell bad, too?" 

"Oh, no, not again, tell me Reed could get some scans this time?" Archer groaned. 

"Well, T'Pol doesn't think they're the same guys, neither does me or Malcolm, Sir. The ship looked completely different, all sorta long and snake like. It was blue. I can put the data we got on a PADD for you, if you want. But it aint much." 

"Please. And if they show up again I wanna know about it." 

"Sure thing," said Tucker then he turned and left. 

After Tucker left Archer lay back down and drifted into a fitful sleep. 

~~~~~~ 

_The green blades of grass swirled in the whirlwind of air that gave way to a brushfire. Great flames consumed the field of rolling hills and left in its wake a scared and barren land. The sky was streaked with red tears over pale blue. The ground stretched forever in all directions, the rolling hills suddenly gone. Archer stood alone amongst the red dust. He was weeping for someone, but he didn't know who…someone far away…the memory of a woman surfaced in his memory then danced away into the shadows, lost amidst the stars that now sprinkled the dark sky. Something rumbled in the distance. Then grew louder and louder until huge walls of water poured over Archer from all directions, consuming him. He floated in a bleak sea of blue/gray water looking desperately for a way out. Then he realized he could breath, but the air was stale. Out of the murky shadows a shark appeared and challenged him to a duel. He accepted and they fought, over what was unclear, but something was wrong, very wrong. The shark had his head in its jaws and just as it was about to bite down the water disappeared and Archer was standing in a kitchen. His kitchen. A woman was standing hunched over the open oven. Her blond hair swayed in the gentle wind. Archer called out for her, but she couldn't hear him. Then a figure robed in black appeared and took the woman away. Archer screamed but the cry just faded into the nothingness of the space around him…_

~~~~~~ 

Archer bolted upright in bed. He was drenched in cold sweat, breathing heavily, and his head was pounding. He looked around, the room was dark, and he was lying on a red bed. Porthos was on the bed beside him. The Beagle looked up at Archer in confusion. The memories of the explosion in engineering rushed back and Archer lay his back down on the pillow and breathed a sigh of relief. "Jeez. What a weird dream," he muttered to no one in particular. "Anna…" he whispered. Porthos looked at Archer in concern as the man stood and changed into his uniform then headed to the bridge, looking to all the world like as if he were in a hypnotic trance. 

~~~~~~ 

T'Pol slide gracefully out of the captain's chair as Archer stepped onto the bridge. 

"Have we heard from our friends?" asked Archer referring to the mysterious aliens that had approached them. 

"No, not since their first visit, Sir," replied the armory officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed in his crisp, British accent. 

Archer nodded, walked over to his chair and sat down. 

"How's your head, Sir?" asked the communications officer. Hoshi Sato was a genuinely kind person, with a slight fear of space travel. She had an incredible interest in linguistics and an ear that couldn't be matched. It had taken Archer several tries and a sampling of Klingon to convince her to leave her teaching job in South America three weeks early. 

"Fine, thank you, Ensi—" 

"Sir, there is a ship just off our starboard bow," said T'Pol matter-of-factly. 

"Mr. Reed?" quarried Archer. 

"It matches the scans I took of the ship that appeared here earlier." 

"On screen," commanded Archer. The strange looking blue ship materialized on the view-screen. "Hoshi, open a channel." 

"Yes, Sir, she responded. 

Archer stood and walked closer to the screen, "My name is Captain Jonathan Archer," he announced, "this is my ship, the _Enterprise_. We are on a mission of peaceful exploration. Can we help you with something?" he waited for several seconds then turned to Hoshi and looked at her expectantly. 

"They received our message, Sir," she said bleakly. 

The strange ship hung suspended for a moment and then turned and went to warp. "This can't be good," grunted Archer. 

"Their intent may not be to harm us, Captain," stated T'Pol. "They may simply wish to know more about this ship." 

"Yah, well, the last bunch who wanted to know more about us tried to kill us. I'll be in my quarters. Notify me if any thing else comes up." Archer turned and left the bridge. 

~~~~~~ 

The stars flew by the window, dancing solemnly away and mingling together in the distance. It was late, some time after one in the morning and there was nobody around. The dim light were reflecting eerie shadows from chairs and tables off the walls. Archer sat alone staring out the window and into the bleak void of space. He sat without seeing. Thinking about the dream. About Anna… 

"Captain, are you alright?" the shrill voice jolted Archer from his miserable daydream and he turned to face the Vulcan standing before him. 

"Was that concern I herd in your voice, Sub-Commander?" he asked stoically. 

She studied his face, he looked older than normal, his brown hair was disheveled, and there was a mass of dark stubble beginning to consume jaw. His usually bright green eyes looked dead, glazed over in sadness and slightly red. She wondered if he had been crying. "No," she stated harshly. "It was not concern, rather a logical deduction, if you looked in a mirror you would see the basis for my question." 

He grinned slightly and nodded. "I see," he said. It had been two days since the odd ship had last appeared and everything seemed normal. Everything except the ghosts haunting Archer… 

"Sir?" 

"Huh?" asked Archer snapping out of his trance-like state. "Yah?" 

"Are you alright?" there was an unusual amount of compassion in her usually monotonous voice. 

"Yah, I was just…thinking…" he said softly, his voice trailing off into nothingness. 

"About what?" T'Pol persisted. 

"Does it mater?" he retorted, he was angry, but he wasn't sure why. 

"You appear to be greatly disturbed by something. Sometimes it helps you humans to talk about such things." 

Archer snorted then turned and looked out the window in silence. T'Pol folded her arms across her chest and remained standing behind him. After a few moments Archer broke the thick silence that had settled over the mess hall. "Her name was Anna," he whispered hoarsely. It took a moment for him to continue, and when he did he was fighting back tears. "Year—years ago, back when I was in the academy, I met this girl…Anna…she was…beautiful. Ash blond hair and sparkling blue eyes," he stared ahead vacantly, looking as if she was standing before him. "We…we were to be married," he continued in a barely audible whisper. "The day," he stopped, and sat for several minuets, tears now streaming down his face despite all his efforts to contain them. "The day of our wedding she…she died," his voice cracked and he had to stop speaking. 

"You were married?" asked T'Pol incredulously 

Archer just sat, hot tears streaming down his face. Finally he answered. "For about two hours, yes." 

T'Pol just looked at him. She didn't know what to say…or do. So she just stood there trying to think of something to say, anything to break the God-awful silence that had settled over the mess hall. Finally she worked up enough nerve to put her hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear, "I'm sorry." He looked up her. The look was painful even for T'Pol to look at, then suddenly out of nowhere he grinned. Taken totally aback T'Pol scolded him, "What's funny?" 

"Nothing," Archer answered solemnly. 

"Then why are you smiling?" she asked regaining her composure. 

"You cared…" he whispered. 

T'Pol just stared at him. She had a sudden overwhelming urge to hug him. She almost jumped out of her skin. Where had that come from? "You thought I wouldn't?" she asked softly. What was she doing? _This is illogical…_ "Come with me," she said taking his hand and leading him to her quarters. She had no clue what she was doing. None at all… 

~~~~~~ 

The next morning dawned, crisp and golden on Earth, however, it looked the same as always in space. Archer stepped onto the bridge looking incredibly refreshed despite getting no sleep the night before. His hair, still wet from the shower, sparkled almost as brightly as his glowing green eyes, and for some reason he couldn't keep the goofy grin off his face… 

"You ok, Sir?" asked Tucker. 

"Yah, why?" retorted Archer. 

"I don' know but you're grinnin' like an idiot. You sure you're heads OK?" 

"It's fine, Commander. I'm just pleased the aliens haven't come back. I'm tired of being shot at." 

Tucker just nodded, "Sure…" he mocked 

Archer smiled. Tucker was right, of course. Archer was happy. Really happy. He hadn't felt this way since…since Anna. He looked up as he heard the bridge door and saw T'Pol walk in. His smile broadened as he remembered the events of the night before. 

"Sir, our guests are back," said Reed, interrupting Archer train of thought. 

Archer looked blank for a moment before he realized what the Lieutenant was talking about. "Again? Why can't they just leave us alone?" he groaned. 

"We do not necessarily know they intend to harm us," interjected T'Pol. 

"True, but based on—" his sentence was cut short Malcolm. 

"Sir, I just picked up a—that's odd…" 

"What is?" asked Archer sharply. 

"Well, I could have sworn they did something, emitted some kind of particle beam from their ship but…" 

"But, what?" 

"Well, it just disappeared." 

"It is probably just a glitch, Mr. Reed. These systems are far from perfect," stated T'Pol in her clipped monotone. 

Archer shot her a look that said 'back off' then turned to face the view screen just in time to see the odd ship once again turn around and go to warp. Archer shrugged. "I'll be in my ready-room filing reports for Starfleet if anyone needs me," he said, then turned and walked away. 

~~~~~~ 

"Captain?" crackled Doctor Phlox's voice over the comm. 

"Yes?" replied Archer grateful for the break; filing reports was probably his least favorite part of the job. He'd been at it for only an hour and half and he was already bleary eyed and exhausted. _Well, maybe if you got some sleep at night, instead of fooling around with your second-in-command…_his inner voice told him 

_Shut up,_ he told it. 

"Captain, if I may, about an hour and a half ago two crewmen checked in, said they were feeling nauseous." 

"And…?" prompted Archer. 

"Well, since then about fifty crewmembers have come in, all complaining of the same symptoms. Thing is, there does not appear to be anything wrong with them, at least not that I can find. The first two crew members have, well…Captain I'm sorry," said Phlox, regret thick in his voice. 

"Your sorry? About what?" asked Archer dreading the answer. 

"They have…passed away. Not only that they, well, they vanished." 

"They did what?" asked Archer in utter disbelief. 

"Just what I said, Captain, they vanished. I'm afraid I can't explain it any other way." 

"They just vanished, like that, poof into thin air?" 

"I'm afraid so, Captain." 

"Have you found a cure? A cause? Anything?" asked Archer on the boarder of hysteria. 

"I'm working on it. But Captain, I really don't know what's going on," said Phlox softly. 

"Well, let me know if any thing changes. Archer out," He killed the comm then closed eyes. _Oh, God,_ he thought, _what the hell is going on…?_

~~~~~~ 

The next few days dragged by, time passing slower and slower with each painstaking moment. Phlox couldn't find a cure or even a problem. They could only assume it was caused by the odd ship that hadn't reappeared since. Archer paced the halls furiously. Only Tucker, T'Pol, Cuttler, Phlox and himself were still alive. Cuttler and Tucker were both in critical condition and expected to die soon, T'Pol was ill, and Phlox was beginning to contract the mysterious disease—whatever the hell it was. Even Porthos was gone. Only Archer remained unaffected by the Death Plague, as it had come to be called. With nothing left to do, Archer stormed down the empty corridors to sickbay. 

~~~~~~ 

Upon arrival Archer was stricken to find that Crewman Cuttler had already disappeared, and Tucker was fading fast. He stood beside his friend. "Trip…" he whispered vacantly. 

Tucker opened his eyes, "You really ought to shave, you know that?" 

Archer nodded. Tucker's resilience never ceased to amaze him; even in his last few minutes Tucker was making jokes. The men just looked at each other. They didn't need to say anymore, it had already been said. They just held each other's gazes knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Then finally Tucker closed his eyes and started to fade away. 

"Trip!" Archer cried out, but it was too late; his friend was lost forever in the sands of oblivion. Tears streamed down Archer's drawn face as he store at the spot Commander Charles Tucker had been lying just a few seconds before. 

A few minuets later Phlox vanished as well. Archer stood, stunned into paralysis. It wore off and he felt an uncontrollable anger. In a wave of rage and frustration he beat on the bio-bed Phlox had been resting on, causing his knuckles to bleed. 

T'Pol reached across the space between the beds and gently touched his arm. "Jon…" she whispered solemnly, "It wont work." 

"I know but I just…I…" 

She shushed him then gently pulled him to the edge of her bio-bed. She took his hands in hers and delicately rubbed his swelling knuckles. After half an hour of dead silence T'Pol reached up and touched Archer tear stained face, "I…I love you…" Archer looked at her stunned then leaned over to kissed her. As he did she faded from existence. 

Archer let out a cry so hollow and sorrowful it would have made a wall of bricks shake and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. He didn't how long he stayed there, balled up in a corner in sickbay crying. All he could think was, _I'm alone know…everyone else is gone…everyone_

~~~~~~ 

The room began to spin, all the colours blending together. Archer's mind swirled in utter incomprehension; one moment he'd been curled in a ball, and the next he was freefalling through empty space. He felt like Alice from _Alice in Wonderland_, only there were no white rabbits here, only darkness. Black, desolate darkness. After what seemed like an eternity he landed on a platform hovering in a sky splashed with more colours than he could name. Out from a distant corner of the circular platform a shadow emerged. 

"Who…who are you?" asked Archer, confused beyond belief. 

"They call me Nazir," replied the shadow. "I'm the one who killed your crew." 

"No!" wailed Archer, the memories stabbing at his heart. 

"Yes, Jonathan, look, I can prove it to you," said Nazir darkly. The shadow waved its hand and the ghastly, distorted bodies of all eighty-one crew members who had vanished appeared, hovering around the platform and wailing in tormented agony. 

Archer cringed. "Why?" he asked blankly, "why did you do it?" 

Nazir shrugged, "does it mater? What's done is done. It can't be undone." 

Enraged Archer charged at the shadowy figure. "Damn you!" he cried. "Damn you son-of-a-bitch!" He struck Nazir with his right fist then his left. The shadow just laughed, 

"You can't hurt me, fool!" it shouted gleefully then with a wave of its hand sent Archer flying across the platform. It walked towards him and as it did its shape changed into that of a Suliban. 

"Silik!" growled Archer as he charged after the shape-changer. He lashed out at it with everything he had and yet it laughed. 

"You truly are pathetic aren't you, Jonathan? Or would you prefer I just call you Jon?" taunted Nazir. He fought off another onslaught by Archer then paused to wipe the blood streaming from the corner of his mouth off. "Not bad," he grumbled, "not bad at all…" Nazir smiled, pure evil glinting in his lime green eyes Then he viciously threw Archer ten feet up and slammed him down again on the platform. 

Archer groaned and forced himself up. He hurt everywhere and he wasn't sure what was broken and what was cut, his whole body just throbbed. He was drenched in a bittersweet mixture of sweat, blood and tears and was breathing heavily. He stumbled drunkenly toward Nazir, and as he did he saw him change shape again. Archer found himself staring face-to-face with a mirror image of himself. Astonished he almost fell backwards. 

"You like it?" asked Nazir, malevolent hate running off his words so thickly you could almost reach out and touch it. 

Archer was speechless. After a few seconds of blankly starring in complete astonishment and disbelief Archer charged Nazir again. They battled for what seemed like endless hours, exchanging punches, and kicks, and jabs. Running on the edge of exhaustion and desperately seeking a way to destroy the evil that had killed his friends, Archer hurled himself off the platform and dragged Nazir with him. He heard Nazir squeal and was once again immersed in darkness, falling through the black void. 

~~~~~~ 

Archer opened his eyes and found he was back in engineering. Everything looked blurry, there was a man standing over him with light brown hair and blue eyes. He was calling his name. Archer sat up and shook his head. Trip. It was Trip standing over him! 

"You ok, Sir?" asked Tucker, concern for his long-time friend evident in his voice. 

"Yah, I'm fine," Archer heard himself say. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else, all twisted and disembodied. 

"We better get you to sickbay, Sir," said Tucker. "You don't look so hot." 

Archer bolted up, struck with a sudden and despairing sense of deja vu. Then the realization that his friend was still alive struck him. "Trip?" Archer said barley above a whisper. "You're…you're alive?" 

"Of course I'm alive, it was you we were worried 'bout. You've been unconscious for almost fifteen minuets, Phlox is on his way down here, now," said Tucker looking very disconcerted at Archer's odd behavior. 

"So then…it was all dream?" asked Archer. 

"I guess, cause you've just been lyin' here the whole time…" 

"What…happened?" 

"That panel over there blew up and hitcha in the head," said Tucker pointing. 

Archer nodded and saw Phlox walk in. "Ah, I see you've regained consciousness, Captain," said Phlox gleefully. "How's your head?" he asked as did some scans 

"Sore," replied Archer groggily. 

"And as well it should be," remarked the Denobulan. "That's another nasty concussion you've gotten your self. You should be fine, though. I recommend you go and rest for a bit. Ah, Commander Tucker, would you mind escorting Captain Archer to his quarters?" 

"Not in the least," replied Tucker grabbing Archer by the arm and taking him over to the turbo lift. 

~~~~~~ 

Archer lay on his bed in faded jeans and a t-shirt. There was a wet cloth on his forehead and Porthos was curled up beside him. 

"Love you?!" sputtered Tucker before he burst out laughing. He was sitting on the end of the bed and had just heard Archer finish telling him about the dream he'd had while he was unconscious. "I can't believe you dreamt T'Pol was in love with you!" hooted Tucker. After a few minuets of uncontrollable laughter he looked Archer, "you don't have a thing for her, do you?" 

Archer had hard time trying to stop himself from cracking up, "me and that Vulca—?" he couldn't finish. It was just too funny, and before long both men were howling with laughter. 

Tucker looked down at Archer. "What were you two talkin' 'bout in the mess any way?" he asked somberly. 

"I can't remember," said Archer shrugging. 

Tucker nodded, "well, you should probably get some rest," he got up and walked to the door. "You want me to shut off the light?" asked Tucker just before he stepped out. 

"Please," said Archer. After Tucker left Archer lay on the bed staring at the blackness all around him. _Anna…_

  
~Fin~ 


End file.
